Harry Potter and the Umbrella Conspiracy
by Kidagakash Nedakh
Summary: CROSSOVER Rule Legend is the captain of the S.T.A.R.S. Delta Team, a special tasks force of the Raccoon City's Police Department. He was there for the virus outbreak on the city and so was a certain witch. Harry and his friends are sent in to investigate.
1. How Dumbledore's Grandniece Died

**CHAPTER ONE: How Dumbledore's Grandniece Died**

_September 30th, 1998_

It was dark… so dark that the two people in the long corridor couldn't see their own hands in front of their faces. A distant faucet could be heard, slowly dripping drops of water that echoed and surrounded the two individuals ominously. _Drip… drip… drip…_. The only other sounds that could also be heard were the harsh breathing and the thudding of their own hearts as they each took a step towards the unknown.

However, they were strangely unattached to their surroundings. Not even the scurrying of a frightened rat or the moaning of the undead calling for them couldn't bring their attention at hand.

They could hardly think about escaping Raccoon City when all hope for survival practically vanished. Was there really any chance for them to live one day more? Or was it all wishful thinking? It seems to them that they should just end their lives here and now before they became a monster like the rest of the city. Should they?

"What is that smell?" the woman whispered to the large man in front of her. His S.T.A.R.S. uniform was like a second skin and revealed the shapes and hills of his muscles as his shoulders raised in a small shrug.

"I can't be sure, lady. It's probably the rot from both the dead and undead bodies littered throughout the city or someone let out some pretty bad gas," Rule Legend answered sarcastically. The woman huffed angrily but stuck close to Rule as he led her down the long corridor.

It seems that Rule Legend is the last S.T.A.R.S. officer around or at least the last _live_ S.T.A.R.S. officer around but he understood that it won't be this way for long. There's a monster after him. Hell, the monster was after any S.T.A.R.S. member it could find and Rule being one member it found but yet to kill makes him a dead man walking.

During Rule's first confrontation with the beast, two members of his Delta team were wounded. An hour later, the wounded became the undead. Rule and the other survivors had to shoot them down.

In the second confrontation; the creature managed to take Gary Davison's life simply by throwing him thirty feet across a room and into a concrete wall. With his knowledge of almost every vehicle made and his skills at hotwiring cars and flying all sorts of planes, Davison was the team's vehicle expert and pilot. So when they had happened to find a deserted truck and the key turned up missing, they were shit out of luck.

Rule's third and last confrontation with this-this _nemesis_ killed what was left of his Delta team and left him unconscious for nearly two hours. This was down in a secret laboratory underneath the Raccoon's City Police Department that even Rule didn't know about despite his ten years of working with the force. He came awake during a huge explosion that shook the research lab. A computerized voice then announced a nuclear bomb was making its way towards Raccoon City, warning all authorized personals to evacuate. Its estimated arrival time was two hours and fifty eight minutes.

Rule was on his own until he came across the woman he is with now. After a slight misunderstanding, (she tried to attack him with an aluminum baseball bat because she believed him to be a zombie) he took her under his wing. Together they've been following sewer lines, finding any route out of the city but it was no use. The sewers were either barricaded or a dead-end.

Rule's last plan of action to escape was through the abandoned train station. Before modern technology came to Raccoon City, the state was building an underground transit system. They quickly abandoned that project when the Umbrella Corporation proposed a more urbane transit system above ground that they were willing to pay for. Just so they could hide their evil doings under the citizens' feet, Rule had realized earlier.

"S.T.A.R.S.!" the roar resonated and bounced off the walls of the long corridor. The sound was deafening and something Rule came to be familiar with. He raised his S&W magnum, his finger alert and suspended at the trigger. _The monster is becoming a real nemesis_, Rule thought and subconsciously started calling the tyrant that. Nemesis either found another S.T.A.R.S. officer Rule doesn't know about or it was getting frustrated with its lack of S.T.A.R.S. members to kill.

The woman pressing close to his back had already started to weep, as if realizing that her time is coming to an end, and to Rule's annoyance, it was gradually increasing in volume.

"Can you please?" He whispered desperately and the woman valiantly stopped whimpering though silent tears now streaked her mud-caked face. He had to get them out of there; he already let down his teammates and their families and he'll be damned if he let down another person.

"We should be close to the abandoned train station, from there we can probably re-supply and escape the city before that nuke hits us," he told her. In the last hour, Rule had come to respect and care for her no matter how much he didn't want to. Though he didn't even know her name, he grew to feel rather comforted by her presence. Rule doesn't know how else to explain it.

"How much time do we have left?" she asked but Rule placed a finger to his lips and shushed her. He did this for two reasons: one, he didn't want to reveal the fact that they had less than twenty minutes to live and second, low moans and shuffling could be heard very close by. Placing his hands on the wall, Rule started feeling his way towards the sounds. Maybe he'll find a light switch or perhaps a… a door! Rule's hand clasped a cold doorknob and relief flooded through his veins.

"There's a door," Rule told her. She probably could hear the excitement in his tone of voice and in turn became excited.

"Is this the train station?" she asked huskily. If Rule concentrated hard enough he could almost make out the whites of her hopeful eyes in the dark and he wished to GOD that he could save her from this damned city. _To hell with GOD_, he thought, _I'll fucking keep her alive myself_.

"You wait here," Rule whispered to the woman but she grabbed a hold of his arm.

"No," she said firmly in a low voice.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Portia Dumbledore," the name was strange but Rule didn't have time to think it over.

"Portia, you have to stay here. Let me just make sure everything is safe for you," he almost begged.

"And leaving me out here is supposed to keep me safe?" She asked rhetorically. "Uh-uh, I don't think so,"

"What would you have me do?" Rule burst out angrily. He paused for a moment to rein in his temper. "I don't want another death on my conscience. I've already got six of those."

"I am not your responsibility Rule Legend," she said calmly. Her sereneness helped soothe Rule before he had let it known to the zombies in the next room that they had company.

"How do you know my name?" he finally asked. Portia didn't answered and neither did he, causing a moment of silence to pass. Rule could practically hear the ticking of the clock. _fifteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds… fifty-five seconds… thirty seconds…_

"I guess you deserve to know this," she sighed heavily. This only made Rule even more confused. What did he need to know?

"What is it?" he prodded.

"It's like this... I'm not who you think I am,"

"Just spit it out," Rule growled. "If you haven't noticed yet, we don't have enough time to play Twenty Questions,"

"Fine!" She huffed angrily, "I'm a witch! Are you satisfied?" But Rule wasn't satisfied. He was shocked.

"What do you mean you're a witch?"

"Exactly what I meant, Rule." She said sarcastically. "I could help. Granted, I'm no use when it comes to guns and even hand-to-hand combat but I've got something that's been helping me to survive eight hours alone and they're my powers."

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"I'm a half-blood witch anyway," Portia corrected her self, "but I have an amazing talent of sneaking a look into the future and reading people's minds," When Rule didn't say anything, Portia continued, almost nervously now.

"I'm not any use with other magic which would have made me a squib if it weren't for my abilities as a seer,"

"Squib…? Seer…?"

"Well, they're magical terms. A muggle is a non-magical person, a squib is a person whose parents are a witch and wizard but wasn't born with any magic and a seer is a person who can predict futures and prophecies." Still no reply from Rule…

By now Portia is definitely nervous and wonders if she should have told him or not. She may have predicted a few things before but they were all spontaneous. Nothing forced so she couldn't have seen what Rule's reaction was going to be.

"Uh… two muggles can give birth to a witch or wizard. This would make that child muggle-born. In England, muggle-born witches and wizards is a huge issue. There's practically a war going on because of it. The more influential and affluent wizards and witches are usually pure-bloods and some don't like muggle-borns or muggles. One example of a powerful wizard with a major dislike of anything muggle is He-Who-Must-Not-"

"Shut up," Rule interrupted. "We've wasted enough time just listening to your speech," He was right. They only have a little more than nine minutes to escape with their lives but it doesn't mean Rule disregarded all Portia said in the last five minutes. He had simply pushed it to the back of his mind so he can address it later. She's either pulling his chain or seriously believes she's a witch and that makes her crazy.

"Hey!" Portia cried out indignantly having read his thoughts but Rule had already thrown open the door.

Once Rule's eyes adjusted to the light, joy swept through him as he took in his surroundings. They finally found the abandoned train station with only nine minutes and half left before the nuke obliterates the city but they didn't have time to rejoice.

Unfortunately for Rule and Portia, along with the abandoned train, there were about twenty zombies and two creatures with razor-sharp tongues that his teammate, Michael Rodriguez, had mockingly dubbed the 'lickers'. One of them monsters from hell had cut Rule's best friend in half with just one whip of their tongues.

Despite all these creatures and how they all stared hungrily at Rule and Portia, Rule's eyes settled on one thing… Nemesis.

But this wasn't the nemesis he remembered. No, this monster was bigger, uglier and had, what looks to be, a rocket launcher resting on its shoulder. The odds didn't seem to favor the pair.

The door slamming behind them startled the two as they glanced at each other before raising their weapons; Rule's magnum and Portia's baseball bat.

"S.T.A.R.S.!" Nemesis roared as it too raised its weapon at the pair and just as it pulled back its trigger, Portia and Rule simultaneously ran in different directions, sending them flying when the rocket hit the door and concrete walls. Burning debris flew everywhere, knocking down a few zombies and one of the lickers that were trying to sneak up on the two from the ceiling.

"Rule!" Portia screamed but Rule was badly shaken from the fall and couldn't even stand on his own two feet. He must have fallen harder than he thought because he felt as if the earth was quaking from underneath him.

Quickly, he rolled over onto his back and raised his magnum and pulled the trigger at the three zombies surrounding him. _BAM, BAM, BAM!_

Just as the last of the three zombies fell, a bullet hole in each of their foreheads, his gaze settled on Nemesis who was… running!… towards Rule. Nemesis's footfalls were the small earthquakes Rule felt, preventing him to keep a steady balance on his feet.

"Come on bastard," Rule urged silently. He was still lying on his back but his head and gun were raised when he pulled the trigger again. _BAM! BAM! BAM!_ One bullet blew off the Nemesis's ear, another went through its left eye and was safely lodged into its head and the third hit its broad chest, sending rotten guts and blood flying but nothing deterred Nemesis from its goal: Rule.

This was the end, Rule knew, but like hell will he die without fighting. He fired two more shots into Nemesis' face and came up empty. With no ammunition left and seconds left until he died, Rule could see his life flashed before his eyes. But just when the monster was right on top of him, Portia suddenly jumped onto the back of the ten-foot tall monster.

"PORTIA! Nooooo!" Nemesis didn't even notice Portia until her hands dug into the gaping hole in its shoulder. There was a huge purple tentacle waving around from there and must have been Nemesis's weak spot because it dropped to its knee, roaring in agony.

"Portia, leggo of it!" But she either didn't hear Rule or ignored him for she held on like a parasite. Rule then gave a cursory glance at his surroundings and surprisingly, all the zombies were down which meant Portia was right when she said she could help. One of the lickers was squashed under a huge rock that must have landed on it when the rocket exploded into the wall.

A few feet way from the squashed licker, was the rocket launcher Nemesis dropped. Rule knew immediately that there would be one last rocket in that launcher and it'll be powerful enough to send that fucking monster to the deepest parts of hell.

"Portia, get the fuck away from him, I got a plan!" He yelled as he sprang onto his feet and started toward the rocket launcher. He looked behind him and saw that Portia had listened to him. She had put a safe distance between her and Nemesis, who was still on its knee, screaming and roaring.

Suddenly, Rule was falling… hard… and landed on his back. He looked around and saw that he was barely out of reach of his goal. Cursing, he swung his head around to see what could have tripped him and cursed inwardly again and even more vehemently when he found the second licker hissing on the ceiling above him.

Its tongue was the length of Rule's body which was a couple of inches pass the six feet mark. Rule watched warily, adrenaline pumping through his veins as the tongue whipped dangerously close to his torso, reminding him of Michael. Foamy saliva dripped from the licker's shark-teethed mouth and landed on Rule's face. It stung but Rule knew that any sudden movements might cause the licker to attack sooner so he didn't wipe it off.

At that moment, the creature pulled its claws out of the ceiling and Rule rolled to the side so that when the licker landed, it wasn't on Rule's chest. Instead, it landed most conveniently for Rule who had his boot poised at the hissing creature.

"Go to hell," Rule said as he threw a powerful kick at its face. He then pulled out his ten inch survival knife and stabbed it through the brain that was visible from the top of the licker's head. After some gurgling, the licker collapsed at Rule's feet.

Throwing his useless magnum to the side, he stood and reached for the rocket launcher, heaving it onto his shoulder and aiming it at Nemesis but something was terribly wrong. Sometime during Rule's clash with the licker, Nemesis was seeking revenge on Portia.

"PORTIA! GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE!" But it was too late. Just at that moment, Nemesis's large hand shot out and covered Portia's face, lifting her by her head. Rule could hear the muffled screaming and his heart ripped into pieces listening to it. Her legs were kicking about but it slowly stilled as a purple tentacle burst through the back of her head.

"No!" Rule cried. He watched as Nemesis threw her body to the side and the purple tentacle that killed Portia was whipping about from the palm of its hand splattering Portia's blood and its own purple blood all over the place. Suddenly, Nemesis found Rule and started towards him.

"S.T.A.R.S.," It moaned loudly.

"Not this time, motherfucker." Rule pulled the trigger and the rocket burst from the launcher and into Nemesis's chest. The force sent the tyrant flying into the wall. Fire exploded everywhere and chunks of Nemesis's rotten guts spilled.

"S.T.A.R.S." It moaned lying on its back, close to defeat but not quite yet. Rule then suddenly appeared at its side.

"When I'm done with you, you'll be seeing stars." Rule's boot was the last thing the Nemesis saw before all went black.


	2. The Mission

**Chapter Two: The Mission**

_Two months later…_

_Screaming… lots of it. Dark, can't see anything… Dumbledore… Mom, Dad, Sirius… Pettigrew, laughter… a flash of intense green… Voldemort!_ Brilliant green eyes shot open, quickly taking in the surroundings of its person. His heart rate slowed as he slowly realized that he was in his room and it was morning. Sighing, Harry Potter sat up and rubbed his hands over his face and through his shockingly raven hair.

"It was just another nightmare," he said aloud for his own benefit but it didn't seem to work. '_No matter,_' he thought, '_out of sight, out of mind… or something of that sort._' He threw back the covers and stood to his full height of five feet, ten inches. During the time when Harry was going through his growth spurt, he had hoped to reach his best friend Ron Weasley's height of six feet, two inches but alas, it was not meant to be.

"Ron!" He called out as he reached for his glasses and placed it just over his Roman nose. He was still in his boxers when Ron burst in.

"Harry! Are you alright, mate?" Harry glanced over at Ron who was breathless and flushed at the doorway, his flaming red hair in disarray. Harry's curiosity peaked until he noticed the messy brown haired girl behind Ron, who was dwarfed by his height.

Immediately, Harry panicked.

"Shit, Hermione! Don't you see I have nothing on but my knickers?" He cried out, indignantly. Harry was too busy trying to cover the manly parts that the boxers did nothing to hide to notice Hermione Granger slightly blushed then lift her chin.

"Be assured, Harry, that it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"I'm sure," Harry agreed sarcastically, clearly looking at the couple.

Ever since their seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his two best friends had become a couple. He knew it was going to happen since their fourth year when Hermione had attended the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, a Bulgarian Seeker, and one of Ron's favorite players… at least up until the two started dating. Since then, Ron did nothing but talk of Viktor, and not in good nature.

Then it was Hermione's turn to be jealous when in their sixth year, Ron started dating Lavender Brown. Well, to make a long story short, Ron and Hermione confronted each other with their feelings and been together since.

"I'll go dress," Hermione announced suddenly as she turned and strode back to Ron's bedroom.

"She's probably left to compare what she seen of your – er," Ron coughed, "manly bits to mine," Ron said and almost instantly Harry threw his pillow at Ron. Just imagining Hermione do anything like that gave Harry the creeps.

Not that she is creepy or anything. She's just – Hermione. Harry's best friend since they were eleven years old.

Ron let out a tired sigh as he ran his hand through his cherry red hair. He let out another sigh (a clear sign he wanted Harry's attention) before entering the room.

"What is it now?" Harry asked impatiently. He had wanted to go to Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping before heading over to the Auror-in-Training facilities but with Ron's sighing, Harry knew he'll have to cancel that part of the day.

"We're needed at Hogwarts. McGonagall owled Hermione last night,"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked immediately as he jumped onto his feet and reached for the jeans he threw to the side last night. Maybe he can owl McGonagall real quick and inform her he's on his way. He gave a quick glance at Hedwig's birdcage but she wasn't there. _Damn,_ he thought.

"You were sleeping and Hermione thought it best if we wait 'till morning," Harry gave Ron a look that clearly read 'yeah, right'.

"Ok, ok!" Ron exclaimed, putting his hands up as a sign that he gives up, "I agreed with her,"

"I don't need the two of you to be my parents," Harry had already thrown on his shirt and was working on putting on his shoes. "I'll remind you that I've lived just fine without them," Ron quickly looked at the door, as if looking for any sign of backup but Hermione was still in the other bedroom.

"I know, we're just worried, that's all,"

"Well, don't. Every morning I tell you I'm fine, and guess what?" Harry asked but he continued before Ron could actually guess what, "the answer is the same this morning: I'm fine and that's it," Harry stood, grabbed his wand and strode out of the room, leaving Ron in a tired state. After a cracking noise sounded through the apartment, Hermione entered the room.

"He apparated," Hermione told Ron as she slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Ron brought his face down into the curve of her neck and snuggled it.

"I know," He sighed, "He's angry. I tried talking to him but you know how he is," Hermione simply nodded as she squeezed Ron affectionately.

"Come, McGonagall wants us,"

* * *

"Harry, I'm pleased you've come," Harry gave a small nod to the headmistress of Hogwarts. It felt strange to be back in the scene of the crime. Just a few feet from where he was standing, he had watched Albus Dumbledore die, paralyzed not from shock but from Dumbledore's Freezing Charm.

From what Harry could understand from the whole situation, Voldemort has ordered Draco Malfoy to kill Dumbledore. Harry could have sympathized for Malfoy. After all, it was either Dumbledore or his family dead. Even though Malfoy's family is a nest of manipulative snakes, he loves them and would do anything he can to protect him. Harry respects him for that at least.

Harry also respects Malfoy because he was wavering in his decision on whether or not to kill Dumbledore. It was obvious Malfoy didn't have it in him to kill Dumbledore. If it weren't for the other Death-Eaters and Snape coming in, Dumbledore might have lived that night.

Severus Snape had killed Dumbledore with a Forbidden Curse, the killing one. All this time, he was supposedly helping the Order; he was Voldemort's number one man. Just thinking about Snape boils Harry's blood.

It wasn't as if Dumbledore couldn't have protected himself. He was, after all, the greatest wizard alive. But that night he was very weak. Dumbledore had reasoned that Voldemort had used a Horcrux to prolong his life. Harry had confirmed it when he got Slughorn's memory. Horace Slughorn was the new Potions master during Harry's sixth year in Hogwarts.

The memory revealed how Tom Riddle, Voldemort's younger self, asked about Horcruxes and his fascination with the most powerfully magical number seven. It also explained why Voldemort didn't die the night he killed Harry's parents. He had pieces of his soul safely put away if such an occasion in which he dies occurs. Like a cat with nine lives but in this case, a snake with seven lives.

Voldemort's seventh part of his soul, however maimed, resides inside his regenerated body. That was the part of him that lived in a spectral existence for so many years during his exile. One part of his soul Harry already destroyed when he stabbed Riddle's Diary with the Baskilisk's fang. Another part of Voldemort's soul, Dumbledore destroyed. It was encased in Marvolo's ring. That was why Dumbledore's arm was so withered.

That night, Dumbledore and Harry were looking for a third Horcrux. They thought they found it but the only way to reach it was to drink a potion. Dumbledore was the one to drink it and in doing so, he became weak. He sounded as if he was being tortured. His cries of wanting to stop will forever haunt Harry's dreams but he had to force Dumbledore to drink. He promised him. After all that, they didn't find a Horcrux and with Dumbledore being so weak, Harry had to hold him up as they escaped the cave from an army of Inferi.

Since then Harry, with the help of his friends, tracked down and destroyed three Horcruxes. All that's left is one more Horcrux.

Being in the same office that use to belong to Dumbledore brings back a rush of memories and feelings that Harry has yet to heal. Already he has lost so much and he has to keep going, until the prophecy is fulfilled and without the strong support he had before, Harry believes less and less in himself as time passed.

Behind the desk was a stern looking Professor McGonagall. _Headmistress now_, Harry thought to himself.

"I came as soon as I learned you've requested my attendance, Professor."

"Please, Harry, I've given you leave to call me by my first name," Though Harry nodded in agreement, he knew that he'll never call her Minerva. It would be too strange. Just then, Ron and Hermione entered the room, both wearing muggle clothes (Hermione's doing).

"Good, you're all here," McGonagall said. Her face was clearly unhappy and so Harry couldn't even begin to guess why he was here.

"Please take a seat and I shall commence with this informal meeting," with a wave of her wand, three armchairs suddenly appeared behind each of the young adults and pushed into the back of their knees, causing them to fall into the seats.

"I'm afraid there's been news with the potential of being bad," McGonagall started once she sat down. She placed her elbows on the big oak desk and folded her hands together as she gazed intently into all three pairs of eyes.

"A seer has been reported missing by her mother. She was last seen in Raccoon City,"

"Isn't Raccoon City in the States?" Professor McGonagall confirmed Hermione's question with a nod.

"Yes. It's a midwestern city and, as it happens, is overrun with muggles and nary a witch or wizard near it," McGonagall continued.

"So you're saying that she was killed by a muggle?" Ron scoffed, "Was she daft or something?" Hermione discreetly punched Ron's shoulder but his yelp of pain made it clear what Hermione did.

"No, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, distaste dripping from her words. "She most certainly isn't daft," Hearing the vehemence from her voice, Ron knew to keep his mouth shut.

"And I didn't say she's dead, merely missing,"

"Who was she?" Hermione asked, hoping to move the conversation along. With another look at Ron, who in turn flushed an embarrassed red, McGonagall started speaking.

"She's Dumbledore's grandniece," she answered.

"_Dumbledore_?" Harry's pulse had kicked up a notch at hearing that name.

Harry will never forget that night as he watched Dumbledore crumbled to the floor and he couldn't do anything. He couldn't attack Snape, he couldn't push Dumbledore out of the way… all he could do was scream... silently. _Merlin, I have got to stop think about it,_

"Yes, she is the grandniece of our beloved headmaster," McGonagall repeated for Harry. She knew and understood how this came as a shock to him. Almost seven years of knowing the man and in the end, Harry didn't really know him at all.

"Though Dumbledore tried to do his best by her, her mother wouldn't hear of it. They moved to America as soon as they could,"

"Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, is Portia's grandfather?" Hermione asked. McGonagall nodded.

"I remember him," Harry exclaimed suddenly, "that's the man Mundungus was selling Sirius's things to,"

"Yes, it was," McGonagall confirmed Harry identification before continuing, "he's been informed posthaste about Portia and how she cannot be found but it seems he does not care," Hermione silently tutted along with McGonagall.

"Professor," Harry said as he leaned forward, "what does this have to do with us?"

"I need you three to go and find out where Portia's hiding, if she's hiding at all," At Ron's skeptical look, McGonagall answered his silent question, "You can start with a muggle called Rule Legend. He's hiding at a safe house just outside of London,"

"Why must it be us?" Hermione asked suddenly, "won't the Ministry send out a couple of their aurors?"

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "Harry and I haven't yet finished our auror training courses," Harry only sat back, slowly digesting the conversation.

"She's missing in America and is a citizen there, therefore our Ministry cannot investigate," Harry said. McGonagall nodded again.

"Exactly, we must filed for a warrant but the wizarding government in that country won't validate it,"

"So we're being sent in secretly," Hermione said, continuing Harry's train of thought.

"So it'll seem like we're just a couple of kids wanting to see America," Ron said, a look of awe shaped his features. Though he wasn't dumb, it does take him awhile to understand such a complex situation when he was still whirling from the fact that Dumbledore had a grandniece.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. Portia Dumbledore belongs on British soil. Dumbledore would have it that way and I'll be damned if I won't try to redress this horrible situation."

"How soon can we leave?" Harry asked. He didn't need any persuasion to go. He knew that if Dumbledore was still alive, he would have went and tried to find the truth, no matter what warrant he doesn't have validated. At least this way, Harry could try and repay Dumbledore for all he's done for him.

"Tomorrow at the latest. I must inform you of the situation as best I could,"

Hermione and Ron nodded with determined looks.

"We'll go too," they said together.

"Good,"

"If she was in trouble, why couldn't she apparated out of the city?" Hermione asked. McGonagall only shook her head.

"She's something of a squib, Hermione. It's why Aberforth won't have anything to do with her and her mother. What she can do is read minds and tell the future,"

"She couldn't see that she'll die if she stayed in the city?" Ron asked rhetorically, sending looks of death from Hermione and McGonagall his way.

"If she did die and she knew that it would happened, she must have sacrificed her life for what she believed was the greater good,"

"What do you mean the greater good?" Harry asked.

"That's where we are at a loss," McGonagall replied, shaking her head. She looked wistfully out the window which was a first for Harry, Hermione and Ron to witness, "To think that after all these years, Dumbledore's family is being forgotten just tears at me,"

"Forgotten?" Hermione whispered inquiringly. McGonagall nodded.

"The only reason why the Minister of Magic agreed to 'check' into the situation is because I, along with the rest of the Order, demanded it. He was willing to take the Governor of Magic by his word and leave everything alone."  
"Why?" Ron asked, "I know Rufus Scrimgeour isn't much of a fan of Dumbledore's but wouldn't he want to know what's up?  
"It's like a conspiracy," Hermione said. Harry just sat quietly in the background. Though he didn't say much during this whole time, everyone was fully aware of him.

"There are actually whispers of a conspiracy but I'm not sure how it involves the Ministry or the Government since its muggle talk," McGonagall mentioned. Hermione shot up from her armchair.

"That's it! I knew I recognized that city for a reason," She started for the door, "I'll be back!"

"Where's she going?" Ron questioned but Harry only shrugged.

"Knowing Hermione, she must have left to read up on what she can,"

"True," Ron assented. Hermione always did this. They could all be in the middle of a conversation and she would run off to check something. She was always mysterious about it too until she came back with what she learned. Except in their second year, she wasn't able to do that. She had formed a theory and when she went to test it, she was petrified. If it weren't for Harry finding that note in her hand, they'd have stayed clueless until she woke.

"Here are a couple of pictures I've managed to dig up," McGonagall said as she passed Harry a thick folder. Harry pulled out a photo of a young, pretty girl with very familiar electric blue eyes that use to belong to Dumbledore. She was waving and smiling along with what had to be her mother. She was small, blonde, pale and frail. She looked like a pretty delicate china doll that Aunt Petunia collected before Dudley broke them all.

"This is her?" Ron asked as Harry passed him a picture. It was another picture of her and her mother. The way they were waving and smiling at each other revealed how close the two were.

"Yes, that's her. These were pictures her mother sent over."

"Only three pictures?" Harry asked aloud. The folder appeared thick but it was practically empty except for the three pictures he and Ron are looking at.

"Yes, Rachel Dumbledore mentioned how when she came back home one day from work; almost all traces of her daughter were gone. Portia's clothes, perfumes, books, pictures… anything and everything except for what Rachel had in her wallet which are these three pictures,"

"So Portia could have run away?" Ron asked.

"Possibly, but Rachel doesn't believe so."

"Let's say someone did come in and wiped everything of Portia clean," Harry said, "wouldn't they have noticed anything magical there? Like these moving pictures for example,"

"No, they lived like muggles. The only things that the Dumbledores have that are magical were these three pictures Rachel carried around with her."

"How utterly dull! Why would they live like muggles?" Ron asked incredulously.

"They're squibs, Ron, that's why. The only think magical about them is Portia and her abilities." Ron nodded his understanding.

"Is that all?" Harry wondered aloud as he stood up.

"Yes, I'm afraid. The only possible lead I can give you is the address where this muggle is staying. Rachel had told me that before Portia had gone off to Raccoon City, she kept mentioning a Rule Legend."

"That's enough for us," Harry assured her. "I'm positive that when we find this Legend person, we'll find Portia,"

"Good," McGonagall said, a melancholy smile softened her face, "Good luck and please," she paused as she stared into Ron's and Harry's eyes tenderly "please be careful,"


	3. Held At Gun Point

**Chapter Three: Held at Gun Point**

"I think we're being watched," Rebecca Chambers murmured as she peeked through the curtains. She was watching three teenagers standing in the stingy wind on the street corner. One of them was very handsome, which had caught Rebecca's eye in the first place, but he was staring right at the window she was at. She had to look away to compose herself because she felt as if the guy was staring into her eyes, looking into her soul… _ridiculous_, she thought.

"Goddammit," Barry Burton voice rumbled as he stood to his full height of six feet, one inch but his broad chest, shoulders and back made him seem much larger than he really is. Though he was thirty-eight and all that has happened with Umbrella aged him immensely, he is one of the fittest men in their crew, "can't they give us a break?" He asked no one in particular.

Rule had immediately moved to Rebecca's side and peeked out along with her. In the background, the sound of Barry cocking his .357 Magnum Colt Python, his favorite weapon, echoed through the flat.

Before the T-virus outbreak in Raccoon City, there had been incidents of a cult killing and _eating_ their victims. The S.T.A.R.S. Bravo unit was sent into the Arklay Mountains, where it was believed the cult was hiding, to investigate.

The Alpha team monitored the Bravos's progress from the police station when they suddenly lost contact. Before the line was clouded with static, gunshots and shouting could be heard but one thing was heard clearly, the cries of heartfelt agony blared through the radio speakers. The Alpha team, which consisted of Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Barry Burton, Joseph Frost and Brad Vickers, then followed the Bravos to find out what went wrong but what they came to find was beyond what they imagined.

They had flown in by helicopter and once the team was on ground, they fanned out through the meadow but something went terribly wrong. Joseph, the vehicle specialist, was attacked by a wild dog… then another… then another… then another! The fire weapons the team carried couldn't even kill the dogs. They were unstoppable machines, taking in the bullets like pills until Chris killed one.

"Shoot them in the head!" He cried out. It worked but it took time trying to aim in the dark so they ran for their helicopter but their pilot, Brad, abandoned them. He's always been called Brad 'chicken heart' Vickers by his fellow teammates but not until that moment did the rest of the Alphas realized how truly cowardly he was. That he would sacrifice their lives to save his own says a lot about his character.

They all, then, ran for safety in the old and abandoned Spencer estate. Lord Ozwell E. Spencer hired George Trevor, an architect, to design the layout of the Spencer mansion. It was rumored that the mansion itself hid so many secret corridors and doors that Spencer had Trevor and his family killed because they were the only ones who knew the mansion's secrets. But, unfortunately, the mansion wasn't as safe as the Alphas believed. It was populated with zombies and other unbelievable monsters and there Chris found Rebecca in a supply room.

Barry was the weapons expert in the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha unit. During that night in the mansion, Barry was being blackmailed by the Alpha captain, Wesker. Wesker had been sent in to destroy any Umbrella research and information that might hurt the company and threatened the lives of Barry's family so that Barry would help him. Since then, Barry had left his family to help bring down Umbrella.

"They look strange, almost like they don't belong," Rebecca noticed.

Upon meeting her, Rule had noticed almost immediately how young –- and _little_ -- she is but despite her nineteen years (and her stature of five feet, three inches and ninety-three pounds), she had more experience than he does when it comes to gunning down Umbrella and more brains than half the world put together. Because she graduated from college at eighteen, it made her a good choice to be the S.T.A.R.S Bravo unit's field medic. Rule had also decided not to underestimate her because she _was_ the sole surviving Bravo of the Spencer mansion incident and she has also survived two more incidents since then.

Barry only shrugged his massive shoulders at Rebecca's observations. "Rookies," he said simply, "they always stick out like a sore thumb, no matter who they work for," Rule shook his head.

"No, that's not it," he looked down at Rebecca who had to bend her head far back to look up at him, "what's it like out there? Twenty, thirty degrees below freezing?"

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"So it's freezing out there and those three are standing on the street, all toasty-looking," Rebecca looked back at the trio just outside their window and nodded.

"That's right. They should be shivering and trying to keep warm,"

"You reckon they're Umbrella's new experiments?" Barry asked. He was already pulling out his second weapon, a Custom Revolver with a huge underlug in .44 Magnum.

"I don't think so," Rebecca answered, "it's too soon for Umbrella to come up with the modified virus that doesn't deteriorate the flesh,"

"God help us if they did," Barry swore, "we won't know who is infected or not,"

"If it hadn't been for Caliban Cove in Maine, we would most likely be in that kind of hell right now," Rebecca reminded Barry solemnly. Though Rule didn't know the whole details, he did learn that Rebecca and four other ex-S.T.A.R.S. members from Maine had set out to infiltrate an Umbrella facility on a remote island called Caliban Cove. They had arrived with a total of five people, only three survived (one of them critically hurt).

The scientist there was mad and was looking for a way to infect the whole world with his newly developed version of the T-virus.

The modified T-virus didn't turn those infected into recognizable zombies. No, those infected still looked human though a bit blank in the face, and the scientist could control them. They could even speak normally; a deceptive tool that almost got Rebecca killed. Not only that, they could carry and use weapons.

Fortunately, Rebecca, David Trapp (the man who put together the mission) and John Andrews blew that research lab to hell and Umbrella couldn't get their hands on that virus.

Rule looked back at the trio before turning to the other two.

"I have a plan,"

* * *

"What are we waiting for?" Ron asked as he transferred most of his weight from one foot to the other. The trio is standing on the street corner just outside the safe house Professor McGonagall sent them to. When they arrived, it was so cold that it was difficult to even think straight and so, with the help of Hermione's expertise, they used a spell to keep them warm.

"This is a stakeout," Harry explained. Knowing Ron wouldn't understand the muggle term, he continued his explanation. "We're waiting out here until we see someone come out of there," Harry said, staring up into the window all the while he spoke.

"What are you squinting at?" Hermione asked Harry and Harry realized he was squinting.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I could have sworn I saw someone peeked through the curtains,"

"You probably imagined it," Hermione assured him and Harry nodded his agreement. You can never really trust someone's vision if that person's wears glasses.

"Anyway," Hermione started to say, "When I left McGonagall's office, I did a bit of reading on Raccoon City" she finished casually. Harry grinned. Knowing Hermione, no matter how casually she said it, she was really bursting with information to tell.

"I don't understand it" Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at her incredulously. "It's like you have an encyclopedia in your head,"

Hermione only returned Ron's stare with hostility before continuing with what she was about to reveal. "McGonagall told us that Dumbledore's grandniece was last seen in Raccoon City, right?" She paused, waiting for nods of consent. "Well, just around the time she disappeared, a nuclear bomb destroyed the city,"

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise and his green eyes widened fractionally. Ron, on the other hand, was confused.

"What in the world is a _wha-cha-meh-call-it_?" There was a small moment before Hermione started to explain what exactly is a nuclear bomb is. She knew that if she used too many muggle terms, all she'd accomplish is to confuse Ron even more.

"It's this object," Hermione started. Harry watched her expression with amusement. Resorting to simple words is not Hermione's specialty.

"It's programmed," At Ron's even more confused look, she quickly replaced the muggle word with _told_.

"It's told to go somewhere so it flies to its destination at a fast speed and once it reaches where it was told to go, it explodes, turning anything in its path into dust," Harry noticed a small vein throb near her temple as she strained to think up an uncomplicated definition.

"Why was the nuke sent?" Harry asked Hermione, turning back to the matter at hand, but she shrugged.

"It didn't say much but from what I gathered, there's been an accident at a nuclear plant nearby,"

"So…," Ron started, hazarding a guess, "this Portia is dead?" Hermione opened her mouth but Harry answered for her.

"Most likely," Skepticism then shaped Ron's features.

"Then why are we still here? Let's go!"

"No," Harry said in a commanding tone. It stopped Ron dead in his tracks. "The fact that there's been an 'accident' is too coincidental for me,"

"That's what I thought," Hermione agreed.

"But our mission is to find Portia and how can we when the place she was last seen at is in ruins?" Ron sputtered. "What does accidents and coincidences have anything to do with it?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "Wouldn't you want to make sure your niece is still alive?"

"You know I don't have a niece, _my only_," Ron said, calling Hermione by his pet nickname for her.

"You know what I mean, Ron!" She admonished him. When he reached for her, Hermione slapped his hand away, "and don't _my only_ me when we're on a mission," Ron groaned mournfully.

"Back to what I was saying, there's also been talk of a conspiracy but those who spoke of it were branded crazy,"

"Why?" Ron asked.

"I'll just read from what I printed," Hermione declared. Ron didn't understand what she meant by printed but he stayed quiet.

_**Arklay Mountains,  
Raccoon City, July 24th, 1998**_

A spokesperson at the Raccoon City Police Department reported that an investigation helicopter of the special task force, S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team, is missing.

According to the announcement from the Raccoon City Police Department, the team was sent in to investigate the Arklay Mountain and Raccoon Forest area, where a number of people have been reported missing. Contact with the team has been lost since the last communication before dawn.

The Raccoon City Police Department suspects the team has been involved in some trouble. Now it will send the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team to investigate and collect information from witnesses.

Recently there have been a number of bizarre murders reported near Raccoon City. This incident is likely to make Raccoon City residents feel even more uneasy.

The special task force S.T.A.R.S. (Special Tactics and Rescue Service) was founded in 1996 under control of the Raccoon City Police Department to counteract increasing city terrorism and other crimes.

- From Raccoon Press  
Evening Issue, July 24, 1998

"What's happened with this Alpha team?" Harry asked.

"They came back with one surviving Bravo member and two of the Alpha members dead,"

"What happened?" Ron asked inquiringly. "How did they die? How did the survivors lived?"

"The survivors claimed it was this company's fault. That this corporation was doing illegal experiments on humans and it made those infected into monsters,"

"They do sound as mad as a hatter," Ron assented. Harry chuckled but then frowned. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and immediately he knew that they had company.

"Well, boy, I don't really take a liking to being called crazy," a voice growled from behind Harry. A cold piece of metal was pressed against his bare neck, sending goose bumps throughout his body. He didn't need to glance over at his best friends to know the same cold metal was pressed against their necks too.

"Oye! Stop pocking me with that, why don't you?" Ron cried out indignantly. Harry sent a look at Hermione and silently willed her to tell him to shut up.

"Ron!" Hermione called softly. Once she got his attention, she continued, "Remember what I told you about muggle guns?" Ron nodded but by the look on Hermione's face, he knew she wanted him to say it.

"Yes, I remember. Muggle guns are used to kill in the muggle world," He said with verbatim.

"Well, _Ron_," a female voice mocked from behind Hermione, "there's a gun aimed at your head and the person holding that gun won't hesitate to kill you," Ron let out a yelp of surprise and immediately pressed his mouth shut.

"Now, let's do this nice and easy and no one will get hurt," a third voice said. An instant later, the trio was being pulled across the street and into an alleyway behind a building. They were then faced against the wall, the guns still pressed into their necks.

"Did Umbrella sent you?" the female voice demanded. The three were too frightened to speak for a while but Harry realized they shouldn't get on these people's nerves.

"Er – we don't know an Umbrella," Harry ventured but the gun behind his neck was pressed harder. Harry then slowly reached for his wand that was hidden inside his coat and wrapped his hand firmly around it, waiting until it was absolutely necessary to use it. After all, he can't perform magic in front of muggles without their mission being jeopardized.

"Then why were you standing on the street corner, watching us?"

"We were sent here to find Portia Dumbledore!" Hermione burst. She was close to tears, no doubt watching her life flash before her eyes. Ron reached over to hold her hand.

"Portia? Portia Dumbledore?" the third, no the first... wait, maybe the second -- _oh, who cares? Harry thought to himself_ -- voice repeated. Ron nodded eagerly.

"She happens to be the grandniece of someone very important and we were told someone around here knows where she's at," Ron explained.

The gun pressed against Harry's neck pulled away and the voice commanded for the other two to do the same.

"Are you sure, Rule?" the female voice asked. He must have nodded because then the guns pressed into Ron's and Hermione's heads also pulled away. Audible sighs of relief could be heard.

"So you're looking for Portia Dumbledore?" Hermione nodded, "well, it's too bad you won't find her."

"Why not?" Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

"She's dead, that's why."


	4. Protego!

**Chapter Four: Protego!**

_November 30th, 1998_

Where am I? I don't know how you can answer this considering that you're a leather bound book but I'm desperate here! I woke up not in my familiar bed but in this stone hard one… and it all came back to me! I've been kidnapped!

Found a note… said I should write how I think and feel into this book. I can better tell you how I feel and think just by throwing you across the cell. I'm not writing in any book just because some bastard gets off reading the torments of a human mind… someone must have realized what I did when I did first threw you across the cell.

A soft voice called out softly "don't do that… you have to write in it… or else they'll take you." I had jumped up… screaming. "Where are you? Who are you? Why are we here?" but no answer… it was most likely my imagination.

Not so long after that, screams of terror can be heard echoing through the halls. My heart was practically clawing out of my throat and through the walls I can hear soft cries. "Don't take me! PLEASE! I'll do whatever you want! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

That was the last words that person screamed before a thud sounded. What is this place? What does it do to those who disobey? Immediately after that, I took this book and started writing this. Don't know what's going on… but for now, I'll do what they want. I need time to figure things out.

* * *

"Mr. and Mrs. Chang, I understand how you must feel but please calm down," The secretary outside the Minister's office pleaded. Mrs. Chang only sobbed harder and Mr. Chang grew redder in the face.

"My daughter has been missing for two days! You expect me to calm down?" Mr. Chang thundered in his heavily accented voice. He turned to his wife, who had already made a huge wet spot on her husband's shoulder.

"Hoshiko, my darling," and he continued to soothe her in his native language, Japanese.

Jasmine Witherspoon shook her head in sympathy. Ever since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned, there have been many disappearances but nothing like this. Kids have started to disappear as well. The Ministry kept it from the newspapers; Scrimgeour wouldn't want to look bad in the public's eye.

So far, the past twenty-nine people ranged from the ages of ten to twenty but they were unimportant people, no one anybody would notice once gone. They are those who lived in orphanages or on the streets near Diagon Alley. But now the daughter of a very well-known family has been added to the missing people list and soon enough, this whole ordeal will be on the front cover of the Daily Prophet.

Jasmine stood up from her desk and left the grieving couple alone. It seems to her that at a moment like this (they were lovingly cuddling and kissing each other), they should be alone.

"I guess I should take this time to face the dragon," she whispered to herself. She continued down the hallway that led to Scrimgeour's office. She knew he was busy and wouldn't like any interruptions but neither would he like to be _un_-informed about this latest development.

Jasmine finally reached the golden door with his full name engraved boldly across it and knocked.

"Come in," a very angry voice sounded. Before she swung the large door open, Jasmine took a deep breath and counted to three.

"Ms. Witherspoon, I thought I've made it clear about interruptions during any of my meetings," Scrimgeour thundered. Jasmine's cheeks colored when she noticed the two other occupants of the room eyed her coldly.

One man had a pair of hairy gray ears; wrinkles creasing into other wrinkles until his face looks like he fell asleep on a screen door. His thin brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he did nothing to hide his receding hairline. The dark circles under his eyes almost made it impossible to discern the color of his eyes; making him look almost evil.

The other man was young and handsome, though. His blond hair was slicked back and his crystal blue eyes shined clearly with intelligence. His had a strong face, with very lush lips and beautiful cheek bones.

Jasmine would have felt an immediate attraction towards this man if it wasn't for the way he looked at her. Almost like he was dissecting her, studying her one piece at a time but Jasmine felt it wasn't for his own pleasure that he did this. It was cold. Like how a doctor would be when study the anatomy of a corpse.

Scrimgeour looked rather like an old lion. There were streaks of gray in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. His desk is enormous and would have dwarfed anyone sitting behind it but it only made Scrimgeour look larger than life.

"I know my actions are not welcome, Mr. Minister, but I have a new development on the Missing Orphans case,"

"You know to inform whoever I put in charge of that investigation," he replied.

"I do but the newest missing orphan isn't really an orphan,"

"What?"

"Um, she's the daughter of the Changs, Minister, and they are close friends with the Diggorys,"

"Damn…" Scrimgeour muttered under his breath. He turned to his guests.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Goldman, Mr. Saddler, but it seems our meeting must come to an end,"

"It's quite alright," Goldman, the handsome man, spoke smoothly. Saddler simply grunted before standing. "We must return to our pets soon. As you well know, they're…" Goldman paused eloquently before continuing in his hypnotic voice, "of a new breed. I wouldn't want to be caught off guard if anyone of them should try something,"

"Quite right," Scrimgeour agreed. All that Goldman said only confused Jasmine. _Pets? What in Merlin's beard is he talking about? Scrimgeour hates all kinds of creatures,_ she thought silently to herself.

"Ms. Witherspoon, I don't pay you to stand around in my office like a complete dolt," Scrimgeour sneered, "return to your desk," Jasmine obediently exited his office and hurried back to her desk but all the while she was swearing angrily to herself.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned away from the wall and they were finally face to face with the people holding the guns. They were two men and one woman. The larger of the two men is also the oldest and the younger man was incredibly handsome. The woman was small and looked overwhelmed by the men's largeness.

"How did she die?" Harry asked finally after a moment of sizing everyone up.

"Umbrella," the three said in unison, hatred dripping from their words.

"Are you Rule Legend?" Hermione asked. The younger of the two men nodded.

"This is Barry Burton and this here is Rebecca Chambers. They're also survivors of Umbrella,"

"Rule," Barry grumbled, "are you sure they're okay?" Rebecca looked up at Rule anxiously as well. Anyone who might threaten their position to Umbrella is an enemy.

"Yes, they're okay," Rule assured them.

"What is Umbrella?" Ron asked Rule but it was Rebecca who answered.

"Umbrella is a heartless company. They have a finger in every pie from law enforcers to politicians to scientists. They're the reas—"

"Oh, don't try explaining. He won't understand." Hermione interrupted. Rebecca looked incredulously at Hermione then at Ron. _Is he mentally challenged?_ she wondered.

"We should go upstairs," Barry growled, "Umbrella has ears everywhere," Rule nodded his agreement but first asked the trio in front of him a question.

"What are your names?"

"I'm Ron Weasley, this is Hermione Granger and Harry Potter," Rule nodded and started towards the flat with Barry beside him.

"Follow us," Rebecca told them as she trailed after the two men. Harry didn't argue. He thinks he would have followed Rebecca anyway.

The flat was rather small for three people, let alone six. Everyone was cramped into the living room slash kitchen and the bathroom was just two steps away. Ron and Harry had taken their seats on the old mattress in the middle of the room. It had noticeable stains and a few springs had poked through the fabric. A few seconds after the two took their seats, Hermione did the same with reluctance clear on her face.

Harry had immediately noticed Rebecca from the start. She was small and cute with hair cut boyishly short. Her eyes were a crystal gray like the lake at Hogwarts just past midnight when the moon was full. Her skin looks to be as soft as -- _whoa… slow down, boy. You're on duty_, Harry reminded himself.

Rule, Harry also noticed was extremely handsome. It was the kind of handsome girls swoon over when they thought of cowboys and outlaws. He's as tall as Ron but much broader. Barry stood an inch shorter than Rule and Ron but seems larger than both put together. Rule's body was that of a professional swimmer; lean, lightly muscled.

Barry is very distinguishing looking with a reddish-brown beard covering most of his face. His brown eyes were emotionless at the moment and his wrinkles indicated how difficult is life must have been in the past.

"I know," Hermione started, breaking the silence, "that I didn't know her; didn't even knew that she existed before all this but I still can't believe she's dead," She said in a sad, kind of desperate, voice.

"It's all right, _my only_," Ron said as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's small shoulders and squeezed gently, "you're just disappointed because you couldn't save her," Hermione leaned over to rest her head on Ron's shoulder. _This_ is the Ron she loved most; the caring, sweet, considerate person that she's learned to see.

"Well," Rule smirked, "as much as I feel touched by this lovely display, I want to know how the hell you knew where to find us," Hermione glared angrily at Rule and turned away haughtily. Though she had noticed (and felt the effects of) how incredibly good-looking he is, she did not like his attitude. _Not one bit_, she thought to herself.

"How much do you know?" It was Harry who spoke first. He was always the first to take charge and, if necessary, lead.

"Pretty much nothing," Rule admitted. "But I have a feeling you might say you're witches,"

"How!" Hermione burst out loud just as Ron cried out crossly "Hey! Harry and I are not witches! We're wizards!" Hermione stared at Ron.

"Only you would notice that he called you a witch and completely overlook the fact that a muggle knows that we're, well, _not_ muggles."

"That's not fair! I've noticed," Ron cried out angrily.

"Yeah, right," Hermione agreed sarcastically. Rule noticed Harry, the boy with the scar, sigh heavily and shake his head when his friends' arguing became louder and more heated.

"They do this often?" He asked. Harry looked up.

"Ever since we were eleven years old,"

"Quiet!" Barry roared. Everything went silent at the command. The silence proceeded for a long moment before Rebecca asked the question that was burning on the ex-S.T.A.R.S. members' minds.

"Do you really believe you're… uh, witches?"

"I'm a wizard… a wizard!" Ron repeated slowly.

"You shouldn't know this," Harry said but Hermione shook her head.

"I think it's all right. Remember, McGonagall told us that whatever Portia did, she did for the greater good,"

"The greater good?" Rule repeated angrily, "Having a four-foot long tentacle suck your face isn't for the greater good, girl,"

"What?" Harry said shocked.

"You heard me." Hermione gasped angrily, Ron looked ready to tear someone's ear off and Harry looked to be reaching for a concealed weapon.

"Look this isn't going anywhere," Rebecca interrupted, "how about we keep calm for the moment," Everyone grumbled out an agreement when Barry walked over to the windows, taking a peek through the curtains.

"Shit," he whispered.

"Shit?" Ron asked. "Shit what?"

"He means," the Rebecca answered for him, "_Shit, they're here,_"

"Who's here?" Harry and Hermione asked.

"No time," Rule said, "you, go with Rebecca" he commanded Harry. Harry glanced over at Rebecca. She had picked up two bags and handed one over to Harry.

"Just keep close and you'll be alright," Harry nodded dumbfounded. He was too confused about what's going on to question her.

"Red, you're coming with me. I think I'll have some use of you," Rule told Ron. Ron only looked angry about what Rule called him but did what he was told.

"Barry, you'll take Hermione,"

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Barry asked Rule.

"Let's hope I didn't just wired this whole building with explosives for nothing,"

"Explosives?" Harry repeated, still dumbfounded by the rapid pace of events.

"Explosives!" Hermione shrieked.

"What do you mean 'explosives'?" Ron asked, scratching his head a bit.

"No time," Rebecca, Rule and Barry said in unanimity. _It's probably a catchphrase of theirs_, Harry thought.

"Let's go," Rule cried out. Rebecca started out towards the bathroom with Harry following her. Barry and Hermione were going to the closet and Rule and Ron left through the front door.

"Why are we in the bathroom?" Harry asked but Rebecca didn't answer. Rebecca placed her bag down on the tiled floor and wrapped her arms around the toilet and started pulling it. Harry immediately dropped his bag and helped her. After a few moments, the toilet started giving way and when they pulled it back enough, Harry could see a big hole in the wall, that was once covered by the toilet, leading to outside.

"Let's go," Harry nodded as he watched Rebecca shimmied through the hole. "Pass me the bags," Nodding again, Harry reached for Rebecca's bag and put it through the hole. Then he did the same with his own bag and now it's his turn to go through the hole.

"Quickly, they're coming," not knowing who _they_ were and judging by Rebecca's anxiousness, Harry knew _they_ were bad news so he moved quickly; shimmying through the hole without any trouble and assuming the bag again.

"Do you know how to handle a gun?" Rebecca questioned Harry as she ran towards the trees. Harry shook his head and Rebecca let out a frustrated sigh.

Her frustrations toward him almost made Harry wish he knew how to use a gun but in the world he grew up in, guns had no place.

"Look, I can help…" Harry started to say but Rebecca cut him off.

"Don't need it." Suddenly gun shots cracked through the air and a small scream echoed through the woods. Harry immediately recognized the scream as Hermione's. Something rustled behind Harry and almost instantly, Rebecca pulled out her gun and squeezed the trigger. _BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM!_

"Shit! What did you just shot at?" Harry shouted.

"A couple of U.B.C.S. members," she answered.

"What in Merlin's beard are U.B.C.S. members?" But Rebecca didn't answer. After another five minutes of running, Harry could see Hermione, Barry, Rule and Ron just ahead.

"Harry, you're safe," Hermione gushed in relief.

"No one's hurt?" Barry questioned but everyone was fine. A second later, a huge explosion shook the earth underneath them.

"I guess they worked after all," Rule commented dryly. Barry smirked at him just when a shot sounded and Rebecca's cry of pain sounded.

"Rebecca!" Barry called out and reached for her just before she fell. More shots riddled the ground around them, kicking up dirt as it did. Hermione screamed and clung to Ron desperately. Rule was surveying the trees and returning fire but he was outnumbered. Barry was too busy treating Rebecca's wound to be much help.

_I guess it's up to me,_ Harry thought, pulling out his eleven inched holly and phoenix feathered wand. After the past seven years of usage, it was still nice and supple.

"_Protego!_" He yelled with a wave of his wand. Harry has no idea using the Shield Charm will deflect any of the bullets being sent his way but it's worth a try. The spell creates a magical barrier that usually deflects hexes thrown at the caster, not bullets.

"Harry! It's working!" Hermione shouted with excitement and indeed it was working. The bullets ricocheted off from the magical barrier back to those who fired them in the first place. After a few minutes, the U.B.C.S. members ultimately killed themselves.

"Wow," Rebecca croaked. Hermione was already at her side, using all that she's learned to heal the wound on Rebecca's shoulder. "You weren't lying about being witches,"

"For the last time," Ron said quietly, "we're wizards, Hermione's the witch." Harry smiled, knowing Ron was scared shitless despite his inappropriate correction.

"Yeah…" he agreed "we weren't lying."


	5. Number 3422 Knox Place

**CHAPTER FIVE: Number 3422 Knox Place**

"Where are we going?" Barry asked Harry as he led the others down a long and narrowed passageway between what looks to be two abandoned buildings.

"Somewhere safe," Harry replied, "we need to sit down and really talk but we can't do that with those people chasing you guys,"

"Umbrella scum," Barry muttered under his breath with such intensity and violence, it almost made Harry shudder to hear it. Despite all that has happened to him because of Voldemort, Harry has never really festered a real hatred towards him like how Barry, Rule and Rebecca hates this _Umbrella_, whatever it is. Since his sixth year, Harry just became even less emotional and more unattached to those around him. Sure, he's become further driven to stop Voldemort in his second rise for power but only because it's up to him or so the prophecy says.

After the war is over and if Harry's still alive, who knows? Maybe he'll continue his Auror work or he'll take up a teaching position at Hogwarts. Glancing to his right, Harry noticed Ron walking blindly next to him. By the look on his face, Ron is very deep in thought but Harry couldn't begin to guess what about. Barry and Rule walked silently and stoically behind Harry and behind them, Hermione and Rebecca was chatting happily away. Seeing this made Harry very curious about what it is they're talking about but right now, Harry needs to lead them to safety.

"Whatever you did back there really worked wonders," Rebecca said to Hermione, referring to her bandaged shoulder. Hermione smiled happily.

"I should hope so. I've been studying to become a nurse since _before_ I graduated from school,"

"What made you want to be a nurse?" Rebecca inquired. Hermione sighed before speaking.

"Well, a lot of it has to do with Harry,"

"Harry? What's happened to Harry?" Rule heard Rebecca's whispered question and discreetly turned his face towards them to better hear Hermione's answer. He had realized back when Umbrella's men were chasing them down that this Harry is not your everyday-average wizard. Not that he has any real knowledge of who is an average wizard or not but if he compared Harry to Ron and Hermione and even Portia, Harry seems almost light-years ahead of them.

"Well, Harry isn't like me or Ron. He's essential…" Hermione broke off and stared at Harry's back and Rebecca did the same after following Hermione's gaze. Rebecca had felt an attraction towards Harry right from the start. She didn't know how else to explain besides the fact that his potent-ness is very seductive. The way he talked, walked, and moved… he did it all with an awesome show of strength not only physically but also mentally.

Rebecca shook her head as if to empty her mind of her useless ramblings before turning back to Hermione who, for some reason, had a strange gleam in her eye when she looked at Rebecca.

"What?" Rebecca asked. Hermione only smiled.

"You like him, don't you?"

"Who?" But Rebecca knew who Hermione was talking about and by the look on Hermione's face, Rebecca wasn't fooling her either. "Well, it's hard not to like him. Who can resist his James Bond accent?" Rebecca said; an attempt at a joke but it came out flat.

"OK, enough about me. Tell me what you were going to say about Harry. What is he essential for?"

"It's best that he tells you," Hermione replied after a long moment in which Rebecca's curiosity increase tenfold. Rebecca groaned a bit angrily. Rule shared her sentiments. He wanted to learn more about Harry, more so now since Hermione's vagueness.

"We're here," Harry announced suddenly. Barry, Rule and Rebecca looked around at their surroundings but only saw two rundown, shabby houses and what looks to be a junkyard. Broken glass and garbage are littered all over the sidewalks and street and a group of homeless people are huddling together at the street corner for warmth.

"This is it?" Barry said in disbelief. He didn't know what to expect but this was obviously not it.

"This place doesn't look safe," Rebecca ventured. Ron smiled at them like one would smile at a child.

"Here," Ron said, thrusting a piece of parchment toward Rebecca's hand. "Read quickly and memorize." Rule and Barry leaned over Rebecca's shoulders to read the message as well. The narrow handwriting was a bitty messy to read but nothing the three couldn't handle. It said:

_**The new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number 3422 Knox Place, London.**_

"What's the Order of the---?" Barry began.

"Shush, not here!" Ron whispered. "Wait till we're inside!" He pulled the parchment out of Rebecca's hand and set fire to it with his wand tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground at her feet, Rule looked at the two houses again. One house is 3421 and the other is 3423.

"But where's ---?" He started but was cut off the way Barry was.

"Just think of what you've just memorized," Hermione advised. Doing exactly that, the three ex-S.T.A.R.S. members started to repeat the message in their minds and when suddenly a beautiful, oak door emerged out of nowhere between the two houses, followed swiftly by shiny walls and spotless windows.

It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on wither side out of its way. Rebecca gaped at it. The house seemed out of place, as if it didn't belong between the two old and ugly houses. The house itself was beautiful, the kind you'd want your family to grow up in.

"Come on," Harry said, motioning them towards the door. They followed him through the door and once every stepped over the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them.

"I was worried that it wouldn't work," Hermione said as she removed her coat and placed it on the coat rack. "You three are, after all, muggles."

"What just happened there?" Barry grumbled. Ron took the liberty of answering as he placed his own coat on the coat rack.

"The house is charmed by a Fidelius charm. It's an immensely complex spell involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find -- unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it," Ron explained. Ron gestured for the others to remove their coats and hand them over to him before he continued.

"As long as the Secret-Keeper refuses to speak, the Umbrella people you hate could search all over this street where you're staying for years and never find you, not even if they had their noses pressed against the sitting room window, staring right at you,"

"Mmm," Rebecca murmured, "how convenient,"

"Harry? Ron? Hermione? Is that you?" Someone called out from inside the house. Ron groaned right before a woman with shockingly red hair, same as Ron's, entered the hallway. She's a short, plump and kind-faced woman, Rebecca saw right away. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand, like the ones Harry and Ron waves around, sticking out of the front pocket. Her red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she stood there with her hands on her hips.

"Ah, I see you've brought company," Molly Weasley said as she eyed over the three strangers. She then turned to Ron.

"What? You haven't seen your mother for days and you don't greet her properly?" She scolded.

"Mum!"

"Mum?" Barry repeated. Rule placed his hand over his mouth as if to cover a cough but all knew he was trying to hold back a strangled laugh.

"By Merlin's beard!" Mrs. Weasley cried out when she spotted the bandage over Rebecca's shoulder. "Why, you're hurt! What's happened? Come over here, child. I'll make some tea for you," Not knowing what else to do, Rebecca followed Mrs. Weasley into the next room, leaving a very embarrassed Ron with two teasing people.

"Mum?" Rule said to Ron. Ron turned even redder, if that was possible, before saying.

"Shut up,"

"Just leave him alone," Hermione admonished them, which for some reason made the two men laugh harder. It was hard for Harry to keep a straight face too so before Ron blew his top off, Harry spoke up.

"Let us all go to the sitting room. There we'll talk."

Everyone followed Harry into the cozy sitting room. The fireplace was lit, casting moving shadows around the room. Rule and Barry moved over to the couch pushed against the wall. Harry took his seat in the arm chair near the fireplace while Hermione and Ron sat in the loveseat opposite from him.

They stayed like that for a while until Mrs. Weasley and Rebecca entered the room, carrying a tray of scones.

"Refreshments, anyone?" Mrs. Weasley offered. After a few murmured thank you's, Mrs. Weasley left and Rebecca took her seat between Rule and Barry.

"OK," Harry began, "who is Umbrella?"

"First tell us about you," Rule demanded. "I've gotten the impression that you're important," Harry sighed.

"Well, it's not a secret so I'll tell you everything in a nutshell.

"A prophesy was made in which it said that only one has the ability to destroy the Dark Lord Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards in our world. Voldemort reasoned that this 'chosen one' is me.

"He killed my parents to get to me when I was a year old but before he killed my mother, he offered to spare her life if she'd just get out of the way. She didn't. She sacrificed her life for mine and because of that love, an ancient protection spell stopped Voldemort from killing me.

"He used the killing curse but because of the ancient magic, it rebounded and hit Voldemort. Since then, I've became The-Boy-Who-Lived and the one to rid the world of Voldemort. No one has ever survived the killing curse but I did and I've pretty much made history that day.

"I grew up with my mother's family. They're muggles and hate anything not normal so they hated me. They knew that I was a wizard but kept it from me. Anyway, I found out what happened to my parents and who I really am on my eleventh birthday.

"I started attending Hogwarts, a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry and started becoming even more famous.

"In my first year, I became the youngest person in a century to join a House Quidditch team. I've also managed to save the Sorcerer's Stone, an elixir of life, from Voldemort with the help of Ron and Hermione.

"Wait!" Rebecca stopped him before he could continue.

"What?" Ron said. Hermione and Harry looked at Rebecca questioningly.

"It's you!" Rebecca almost laughed hysterically. "I knew I recognized your names!"

"Our names?" Hermione repeated. "How would you know our names? You're muggles,"

"I know but there's a book that's out in the 'muggle' world," Rebecca exclaimed.

"That's right!" Barry said suddenly, a look of enlightenment shaping his facial features. "My kids are begging me to buy them a copy of that book,"

"The book is called '_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_' and it's by J.K. Rowling."

"Harry's famous in the muggle world too?" Ron asked shocked.

"It looks like it," Rule confirmed.

"But Harry Potter is a work of fiction in our world," Ron and Hermione sat there shocked whereas Harry just started laughing almost hysterically.

"What's so funny?" Rule asked. Harry only shook his head before speaking.

"My aunt and uncle… I wish I'd have been there to see the expressions on their faces."

"I can't believe a writer would write Harry's life and sell it for his own profit." Hermione said angrily.

"We should have thought of that," Ron said. Hermione hit him on his knee.

"My favorite characters are your brothers, Ron," Rebecca said.

"My brothers?"

"They're hilarious," she laughed.

"OK, enough about that. Since you already know about Harry, I guess you can tell us about Umbrella," Hermione said. Barry sighed before answering Hermione.

"It's a medical company formally known as Umbrella Incorporated. It's a huge multi-billion dollar company with bases all over the world."

"A medical company?" Hermione repeated. Rebecca nodded.

"They have brilliant scientists from all over on staff. They've made incredible strides in finding cures for cancer and all kinds of other diseases."

"That doesn't make them evil," Ron said. Rule chuckled.

"It's their cover. What they're really working on is making bio-weapons." Rule said.

"Bio-weapons?" Harry reiterated.

"Bio-weapons… they're humans but only stronger and smarter. Like a robot." Barry explained.

"The thing is; their virus kills those who is infected but manages to reanimate the body so it comes back alive. Like a zombie."

"Zombie?"

"Inferi" Hermione said to Ron who suddenly understood what Rebecca meant by zombies.

"Inferi?" Rule asked.

"They're like zombies but they came back from the dead through magic, not through science." Harry explained

"You've had experience?" Barry asked him. Harry only shrugged.

"I've dealt with them but never managed to hurt or kill them when they got close,"

"It's the head. You need to decapitate them." Rule said.

"That wouldn't work," Hermione told Rule, "this is magic, not science." She said in a sort of condescending way. Before an argument could start out, Rebecca started to speak.

"But not only does the virus makes zombies, they make mutants. It's rather hard to explain but Claire is somewhat of an artist and she's drawn pictures of the monsters."

"Claire?" Harry said.

"She's another survivor. You'll meet the gang later, I guess." Rule responded.

"How did you become involve with Umbrella?" Hermione asked.

"Rebecca and her team were sent in to investigate the Arklay mountains."

"That's right!" Ron said. "You're the Alphas and the Bravos." All three nodded.

"They've called you crazy," Hermione murmured sadly. Rebecca sighed.

"We've tried to bring back evidence ever since but never manage to grab a hold of anything concrete." Barry said and a long moment of silence ensued before Harry stood up.

"Then I guess we'll just have to help you get that evidence,"

"What?" Rule asked incredulously.

"You heard me," Harry said, "We can use our magic to reveal the truth."

"But how?" Rebecca asked. Hermione smiled wickedly.

"There's a number of ways,"


End file.
